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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859142">walking the wire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh'>itisjosh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Dynamics, Fuckin finally, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Past Abuse, Post-War, References to Depression, Temporary Amnesia, Therapy, Understanding, the jd kinnie &amp; anarchist &amp; raccoon get THERAPY, therapy arc pog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:40:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't really therapy, but they make it work.</p><p>They do their best to listen and to offer advice when asked, they do their best to be better.</p><p>They try, and that's all that's ever really been important.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>482</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>walking the wire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's one of those things that you can't fix in five minutes. </p><p>No, their scars go so much deeper than what the eye can see. It's tiring, almost, Wilbur thinks. For all of them involved, it's fucking exhausting. It's exhausting to have to live and have to pretend like everything is alright, that you're stronger than you let on. Wilbur hates it, he hates a lot of things. He hates that he remembers, and he hates who he is and what he did even more. Wilbur would like to think that he did it for the right reasons, but really, was there ever a right reason?</p><p>Wilbur doubts it. He rocks on his feet, staring up at the snow that falls from the sky, wincing at the burning pain that follows when the snow hits his face, settling in his hair. Wilbur knows that he shouldn't be out here, especially not in the middle of a snowstorm, but he doesn't care. It's easier to block out the internal pain with external pain, so that's what he'll do. Wilbur isn't going to bother his family and beg them for help, not after all that he's done. Wilbur knows better, he knows better than to grovel and ask for help, begging for forgiveness from the people whose lives he ruined. He thinks, <em>knows,</em> that he's ruined too many lives, that too many people have been hurt because of him.</p><p>Wilbur doesn't know how to change that. </p><p>He doesn't think he can. </p><p>He stares at the sky, watching as the snow swirls in the air, listening to the silence around him. Everything is peaceful, for once. His mind isn't nearly as loud as it normally is, opting to murmur harsh words instead of yelling them. It's an unexpected, though welcome, change. Wilbur has always prefered it when his mind isn't as loud, when it isn't screaming at him about all the things he's done and all the things he continues to do. Wilbur thinks that those thoughts have gotten a lot quieter ever since he arrived at Techno's house. He had knocked on the door half-melted, dying for a second time with a head full of memories and a chest full of hurt. Techno let him in without saying a word, waiting until he wasn't a goddamn puddle anymore before they started to talk. </p><p>
  <em>"I'm still mad at you," Techno whispered. "You betrayed me."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm sorry," Wilbur whispered back. "I'm sorry."</em>
</p><p>They exchanged half-true apologies back and forth the entire night, and Wilbur wonders how many of them were truly sincere. He'd like to think that his were, but he knows better than to lie to himself anymore. Lying to himself only brought him pain, and because of his lies, he's still always in agony. He bites down on his lip when he feels the snow start to get heavier, when it starts to fall a little faster. He shudders in the middle of the empty field he's in, wondering if he accidentally wandered too far away from safety, from shelter. </p><p>From home. </p><p>Wilbur gasps when he feels something warm thrown over him, snapping his head back to look at Techno, who just nods at him. Techno stands silently at his side, adjusting the cloak over Wilbur's head and shoulders, keeping him covered from the snow, keeping him warm and safe. Wilbur feels guilt worm its way into his chest, swallowing back all the words he wants to say, forcing back all the apologies and all the broken memories that resurface with every moment of silent passing. Techno seems to be doing the same thing, with how his eyes are half-shut, his arms firmly against his chest, blocking anyone from getting inside of his heart. </p><p>"Techno.." Wilbur breathes in, shaking his head as soon as the words leave his mouth. He sounds so stupid. So naive and dumb and worthless, all of the things he always thought he was, but never knew. It's better to think something, Wilbur decides, rather than to know. At least if you think instead of know, you have a chance of being wrong. Wilbur wishes he was wrong. He wishes that he had been wrong about so many things, he wishes that he had never been right. "We need to talk to each other," he murmurs, feeling his throat seize with the words. "We can't keep dancing around the problems. That's not healing." </p><p>"You make it awfully difficult," Techno mutters, jerking his head to the side. Wilbur flinches at his words, although he knows that they're true. He stares down at his feet, shifting in the snow, watching as the snow is blown away from his feet, circling around his legs before it disappears, the wind carrying it off to somewhere new. Somewhere better, Wilbur assumes. "I'm sorry," Techno suddenly tells him, looking back at him. "Wilbur, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."</p><p>Wilbur laughs, ducking his head although it isn't funny in the slightest. "Yes, you did," Wilbur smiles, bitter and broken. He should've known better. "Healing just isn't something we can do then, huh?" He asks, tilting his head back to look at the sky, waiting for the snow to hit his face, to burn him, to brand him. "We were never made to be whole."</p><p>"We were never made to be <em>broken</em>," Techno protests. "Wilbur, stop it," he moves in front of him, adjusting the cloak so it's thrown over Wilbur's head as well, rather than just his shoulders. "Stop. Stop hurtin' yourself. Stop it." </p><p>"It makes it so much easier, Techno," Wilbur laughs, squeezing his eyes shut. "I make it difficult to heal, Technoblade? Then why don't you heal without me? Why don't you leave me in the snow to die, Techno? What's the point in harbouring a man who can't even get out of his own bed half of the time?" </p><p>Techno is silent, and Wilbur wonders if he's right. He wonders if his words are true, so true that they've finally convinced his older brother to finally let him go. "No," Techno shakes his head, setting his hand on Wilbur's shoulder. "We do this together," Techno locks eyes with him, and Wilbur wishes he could look away. "We do this together. We live together, we survive together, we <em>heal</em> together. We'll do it together. We always have," Wilbur blinks at him, feeling his heart stop for a second, restarting a second later. "Wilbur. Come on," Techno offers him a hand. "Let's go back home." </p><p>Wilbur extends his own shaky hand, clasping Techno's with his own. He stumbles through the snow as they walk, feeling his legs tremble with every step he takes. </p><p>Some things you can't fix in five minutes, Wilbur thinks. </p><p>But sometimes, those things can be fixed faster when you finally accept help.</p>
<hr/><p>Tommy is exhausted. He listens to someone cry in the house, wondering where everyone else is. He internally slaps himself, shaking his head at himself. He knows better than to think that. He'd be upset if someone thought the same as him, he knows better. Tommy drags himself out of bed, wincing when the floor underneath of him creaks, immediately giving it away that he's awake. Tommy frowns as he pushes open his door, frowning even more when he listens to the cries. </p><p>They don't sound like Wilbur's. Wilbur is the only one who still openly cries, he's the only one who still lets himself have that freedom. Tommy hasn't cried since he escaped Dream and Logstedshire, and he doesn't even know the last time that Techno has cried. Tommy has never seen Phil cry, he's never seen his dad shed a single tear, not even at Wilbur's funeral. He wonders if Phil lost the ability to cry long ago. Tommy wonders about his family a lot and where they came from, but he's never managed to ask. </p><p>Tommy wanders towards Techno's door, resting his hand on the doorknob as he listens to the quiet cries that echo in his ears. Surely not, he thinks. Surely Techno isn't crying, surely it's a mistake. He turns the doorknob, feeling like he's been shot in the chest when Techno looks up, his eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down his face. "Tommy, I-" Techno stumbles over his words, wiping away his tears as fast as he can. He breathes in, going completely still. "You didn't see this." </p><p>He walks forwards, pressing the door closed again. He sits on the bed next to his older brother, opening his arms to wrap Techno in a hug. "I saw," Tommy tells him. "I'm not going to judge. I'm not gonna judge, Techno. Why would I?" Tommy murmurs, resting his head on Techno's shoulder. "We're supposed to be healing together, right? What's the point in lying to each other anymore?" </p><p>Techno is silent for long enough that Tommy thinks that he's fucked up, that he's ruined everything. He goes to speak again, but Techno whispers something, quietly enough that Tommy can't hear the words said. "You're right," Techno clears his throat, saying the words a little louder. "You're right," he whispers. "I..I don't understand if I'm a human or not, Tommy," Techno chuckles, sounding so broken. "All I'm good for is a blade and a shield, no one wants <em>me</em>. They just- they just want what I'm good at. What I'm useful for. I'm not a person, Tommy," Techno looks at him, tears streaming down his face once again. "Have I ever really been a person?" He laughs, shaking his head. "I don't think I have. I think I'm just a weapon, Tommy. I'm just <em>the blade</em>."</p><p>"Well," Tommy clears his throat, looking up at the ceiling. "You're my older brother, right? You're..not just a weapon. I don't know how else to say it," he admits. "But you're not. You're a person just like me 'nd Will 'nd Phil. We're all people," Tommy tells him. "We're not good people, but we're people. I think that's what makes someone human," he shrugs, looking back to Techno. "The bad parts are what make us real people. 'Cause Gods can't fuck up, apparently, but we can. Weapons can't fuck up, but we can. Humans are the only things that can fuck up, right? We're the only ones who are shit at doing things." Techno laughs, ducking his head. This time, it doesn't sound nearly as broken. </p><p>"Thank you, Tommy. I'm sorr-"</p><p>"Shut up," Tommy pats his back, smiling a little. "Really, Techno, did you think I'd <em>judge</em> you? Come on now, big man," he smiles. "We're long past that, aren't we? No point in thinking about the past when we've got an entire future ahead of us. You and I, big man, you and I. And I <em>guess</em> Wilbur and Phil can come along too, though I'm really just letting them come with 'cause I know that you can tolerate them," Tommy rambles on. "So, uh, yeah. Not a problem, Techno. Just..it's hard. To admit to yourself that you're not a good person, that you're not the hero, that you're <em>bad</em> and that you're <em>wrong</em> and that you're..that you're broken. But, um, once you do.." Tommy shrugs. "It's not as bad. It gets easier once you let yourself be a person again. You're not a God, Techno. No matter how much you joke about how you can't die, you can. We all die, Techno," Tommy sighs. "Once you stop pretending to be strong for yourself and everyone else, it gets easier." </p><p>"I don't like admittin' it," Techno murmurs, "but I think, for the first time in your entire life, you might be right." </p><p>Tommy rolls his eyes. "We were having a <em>moment</em>, Technoblade."</p><p>"I don't <em>do</em> moments," Techno shoots back, an exhausted smile on his face. "You..don't have to stay if you don't want to. I get it, it's not..it isn't a big deal if you leave." </p><p>"I think I've done enough of that whole leaving thing," Tommy announces. "I'll stay here for the night, yeah? First step of healing is to not push everyone else away."</p><p>Techno smiles. "You're a good kid, Tommy. You're a good person. I'm proud of you."</p><p>"And I'm proud of <em>you</em>, Mr. Blade," Tommy beams. "For letting me help you. I know it's hard. But that means you're healing, we both are. Things'll get better, Techno. Things'll get so much better, and before you know it, you'll be right back to normal. It just takes a while, you know? Give yourself some time," Tommy closes his eyes, feeling himself getting more and more tired. "That's all you can do. Give yourself time, Techno. Everything will work out."</p><p>Tommy isn't for sure, but he thinks that Techno whispers an <em>I love you</em> to him. </p><p>"Love you too, Techno." He murmurs, just in case. </p><p>It's not like he's lying, anyways.</p>
<hr/><p>It isn't really therapy, but they make it work.</p><p>They do their best to listen and to offer advice when asked, they do their best to be better.</p><p>They try, and that's all that's ever really been important.</p><p>It's sort of hard to believe all of the reassuring words that he hears between his sons when he sees them in their worst moments, but Phil believes that they truly are fixing things. He watches from his spot in the hall as Wilbur lets Tommy sob on his shoulder, breaking down for the first time in a long time. Phil looks away, feeling his heart hurt at the way his youngest son clings to his brother, like Wilbur is the only thing in the world that's keeping him afloat. Phil thinks that that might be true. No matter how much Phil tried, Wilbur always managed to be the backbone of the family. Along with him, Wilbur would take bandaids and put them on scraped knees and bloodied knuckles. </p><p>Phil turns away, letting his wings fall down to his sides as he walks back to his room, careful to not make a noise. They're getting better, all of his sons are. Techno comes down from his room more often, he'll sit at the table when Phil makes them dinner. He'll join in on jokes, he'll laugh and smile, and his eyes will shine along with every toothy grin he flashes. Wilbur is getting better, he's started to pick up singing again. He plays songs and makes music whenever he's lonely or happy or afraid or sad, and Phil has gotten very good at figuring out which melodies mean which emotion. Phil knows that it was hard for Wilbur to remember after weeks of pure bliss, weeks of pure ignorance that had finally allowed him to be free from himself. </p><p>It may be selfish, Phil thinks, but he's glad that he has his son back. Ghostbur was never really his son, no matter how hard Phil tried to pretend that he was. </p><p>Tommy smiles more. The bags under his eyes are less prominent, his eyes brighter than they used to be. He flinches less whenever makes a sudden movement, and he isn't nearly as protective over his items as he once was. He's finally started to accept gifts and clothes and food, all without suspicion. Or, Phil thinks more truthfully, without showing it as much. Phil still doesn't know what happened to his youngest son while he was exiled, and while part of him wishes that he didn't know, Phil thinks that he's got an alright idea. When he finds the person who hurt his son, Phil plans on skinning them alive. He plans on murdering them without any mercy, and he'll let Wilbur and Techno have a turn. There's no way in hell that that son of a bitch will walk the earth for much longer, Phil is sure of it.</p><p>They're all doing so much better, and Phil is so proud of them. He really doesn't think he could ask for better sons, and he knows damn well that he'd never even think of doing so. Phil closes his door when he stalks into his room, smiling fondly at the picture frame that sits on his desk. </p><p>Techno and Wilbur are both fourteen in that picture, while Tommy's ten. Phil remembers that day as one of the best days of his life. </p><p>He sits down on his bed, smiling up at the ceiling. He can hear Tommy slowly calm down, he can hear Techno move around in his room. Phil knows that if Tommy and Wilbur wanted them out there, they would know.</p><p>For now, Phil is willing to stay in his room and be happier and prouder of his sons than any of them could ever imagine. </p>
<hr/><p>Techno forgot how nice it is to trust. </p><p>He lays back against Phil's shoulder, resting his head against his dad's. Wilbur is on the other side of Phil, snoring a little louder than he normally does. Tommy is thrown across all of their laps, arm hanging off the couch as he sleeps. Techno shifts a little, smiling at the feeling of wings wrapped around him.</p><p>It's nice to not have walls. </p><p>Of course, they're always still there, waiting to be built up again, but they've been knocked down for the first time in forever. Techno listens to his dad and his little brothers sleep, listens to their breathing to calm himself. Everything is alright.</p><p>For once in his life, everything is going right. Everything is going the way it's supposed to. "Hey, Techno," Phil murmurs. "You're still up?"</p><p>"Mmm," Techno sighs, yawning at the words. "I've still got a hard time fallin' asleep around other people. I feel like I have to protect them, you know?" Techno figures that Phil does understand, considering how he's their father. "I think that I'm gettin' better at it, but not good enough to..do it, if that..makes sense."</p><p>"It does," Phil assures him, patting his chest. "It's not gonna stop you, but you can sleep, Techno. I don't plan on closing my eyes tonight, and you know if anything happens, I'll wake you up. I promise."</p><p>Techno rolls his eyes, wondering why the words are so believable. Only a few months ago, he thinks, he would have never believed them.</p><p>Maybe Wilbur was right - maybe they are healing. </p><p>Maybe Tommy was right - maybe they will be okay. </p><p>"Alright," he murmurs, closing his eyes. He feels the expected anxiety spike, wrestling it down so he can sleep, so he doesn't have to worry. "Phil, uh..thank you. For everythin'. I'd say it to them, too, but they're..well, y'know." Phil laughs, gentle and soft and quiet, everything that Techno wishes he could be. </p><p>"I know," Phil tells him, sounding like he's smiling. He probably is. "I love you, Techno. You've done better than I think that I ever could. I'm proud of you, yeah? You'll be alright. All of us will be okay, it'll just take some time. But it'll be worth it."</p><p>"It'll be worth it," Techno repeats. "Alright. Goodnight, Phil, I l-"</p><p>"Love you, Techno," Wilbur's voice is soft and full of sleep. "And also you, Philza. And you too, Tommy."</p><p>"Yeah," Tommy murmurs, sounding like he's just woken up, which he probably has. "Love you all. Night." And then he's right back asleep. Techno stifles a chuckle, ducking his head for a second. </p><p>"Love you all, too," Techno murmurs. "Thank you." </p><p>"We don't do thank you's in this house," Wilbur whispers. "We only do I love you's and we'll heal's." </p><p>Techno snorts. "Okay, Wilbur. Love you, too."</p><p>"I love you, my dumbass children," Phil laughs, and Techno feels him pull them closer together. "We'll be okay. We're already halfway there." </p><p>He believes the words. </p><p>Techno knows that only a few months ago, only a few <em>weeks</em> ago, he would have never even listened to them. </p><p>He smiles as he snuggles a little closer to Phil, listening to his family settle in. </p><p>They'll keep healing. So long as they have each other, they'll be able to do anything. </p>
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